


Mr. & Mrs. Hunter

by plinys



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mr. & Mrs. Smith Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bobbi really wishes she had done a background check on the guy she had decided to marry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. & Mrs. Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> So technically this is a Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU, but its loosely played around and could totally be considered canon. 
> 
> Currently not beta'd but will be in a few hours, I just wanted to post this before I completely regretted this decision and took it back.

There were very few moments in Bobbi’s life in which she has actually be surprised by something.

These instances included but are not limited to:

The moment a passenger, on Flight 106 to Atlanta, punched another overly suggestive passenger in the face, in order to protect her _honor._

When that very same passenger decided that he didn’t want to be just another drunk one night stand and wrote his name and number on her arm, (not in pen like a normal person, but in sharpie) so that she had no time to wash away before taking out a certain threat to global security.

Watching that the guy from the plane become so much more than that, as he dropped down onto one knee in the middle of a crowded airport asking her to marry him.

The rare time when her (lazy ass) husband remembered to make the bed and brought her (slightly burnt) pancakes for no real occasion.

And this exact moment – as she looked down at the papers laid out before her, pictures taken from a security camera from a recently robbed SHIELD facility, showing a man that she recognized at once, even without him looking up at the camera. (She would recognize that ass anywhere.)

“Who is this,” she asks, her voice calm and steady despite the alarms going off in her head, the sudden awareness that she should have seen this coming or that she should have gotten a background check on the guy that she married.

“Lance Hunter,” her handler, Coulson, replies, and Bobbi’s not sure whether she’s supposed to feel glad or not that he used his real name with her, then again she did the same thing, so maybe neither of them were that good of spies, “otherwise known as your latest target, he’s been working with Hydra ran a few mission with them before, this was the first time we’ve been able to get a picture. Taking him out may not be necessary, we would prefer capture that way we can gain some intel on whoever has hired him, but do whatever is necessary. We’re currently working on tracking his location and will call you once the details are-“

“Don’t bother.”

“Agent Morse?”

“I know _exactly_ where he’ll be.”

“Would you by any chance want to disclose how you know this,” Coulson asks, ever the skeptical one, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt and a little grin.

“You know that guy I joke about having locked up at home playing housewife for me?”

“You’ve mentioned him once or twice.”

She taps her finger against the file, “That’d be him.”

“If you’d rather we assigned somebody else-“

“Oh no, I got this.”

At least, she had thought she did.

She had left SHIELD headquarters in angry, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and all of that, but it wasn’t until she had driver to her home, _their home_ , that the feeling had finally settled into something else.

A very small (practically miniscule) part of her feels bad about the fact that Lance won’t see this coming. When she parks her car beside his in the driveway and equips herself with two guns and her battle staves, she tries to imagine her unsuspecting husband, probably sitting on the couch watching the tv and he’s known to do.

If today was a particularly good day he might have even made dinner.

Though she doubted that.

Her key sticks in the front door as it’s known to do,

“Did you get milk,” is the first thing he says when she opens the door and the part of her that had been a little bit tense thinking that he might be prepared for this eases off instantly.

She lets the door slam shut behind her, sliding the deadbolt before replying, “sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s no big deal, but hey, Bob,” he calls, his voice carrying from the living room, just as she had suspected, “I think we should talk.”

“You know, honey, I was actually thinking the same thing.”

There’s a pause before he replies, his voice hesitant and there’s just something a bit off about it, “you were?”

“Yeah, I figured, we could start with the fact that you’re a lying son of a bitch.”

“Is this about that woman from Florida, it was a onetime thing and I-” whatever other lie was about to spill from his lips freezes when she round the corner to the living room gun raised, to meet the steady gaze of her husband holding his gun at the ready, “I’ll take that as a _no._ ”

They both fire at the same time, and that’s a lot better than talking.

Bobbi jumping to the side as her gun goes off, ducking out of the doorway so that she’s no longer in the living room, and Lance dropping down behind the couch that he had probably been lounging in wait on since before she arrived.

That thought was enough to get her to dart out again, firing another shot in his direction.

She doesn’t hit her mark, but there’s a screeching sound and a loud groan.

“You broke the tele,” Lance announces, as if that’s the worst thing she’s ever don’t.

“That’s not the only thing I intend to break.”

“That probably shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does,” he admits, voice just a little breathless even though they’ve just begun, it’s the same way his voice sounds when they’re fucking and he’s inches from losing it, “but really Bob, there’s something about you that just gets me going even when I really should be focused on killing you. It’s hot and terrifying at the same time-“

“Could you shut up?”

“You could make me.”

She fires enough rounds into the living room that it’s not just their tv which is broken, and he fires enough in return that she almost wants to tease him on learning how to aim, then again she’s not doing a much better job.

The worst part is that she normally has a better aim that this, she knows she’s a better aim than this, and this mission should be a simple one- she shouldn’t be _compromised_ by this.

She isn’t.

The cease fire only comes when they’re both out of ammunition; the silence seems almost deafening even with the click of guns being reloaded.

“You’re Hydra?”

“Not exactly,” he calls back, his gun clicking into place, before firing another shot at her, “more like Hydra is currently the highest bidder and-“

Her next shot was close enough to his head to shut him up and only get a squeak in return, “you’re a mercenary,” she corrects.

“To be fair, love, I did mention that I worked in private security, it’s your fault for not putting two and two together,” there’s a sound of shuffling and without looking over her shoulder Bobbi can tell that he’s moved into the kitchen, the wooden floorboards squeaking as he moves, “whereas you told me you were a flight attendant, not a SHIELD agent.”

“Looks like I lied,” she laughs, creeping softly along the floor with a grace that her mercenary of a husband clearly never had been taught, “though you know all about that.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the passive aggressive one,” and she can practically hear the smirk in his voice, but she tries not to focus on that- on how he probably looks right now, and instead grabs her battle staves and rounds the corner into the kitchen nearly colliding with somebody who was clearly not expecting her to be there, if his slightly panicked, “bloody hell,” was anything to go off of.

They had always been weirdly in sync before, they would move about the kitchen making breakfast and silently sidestep each other, it had been one of the things that she loved about it. Now as they moved about the kitchen trying to kill each other, it was one of the things that irked her the most.

“God damn it, Lance, stay still.”

“So you can kill me,” he asks, “yeah, love, no thank you.”

“Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“Right now the only thing I want to kill is my hate boner, which right now is being very persistent,” his lips curl up into a smirk, “you’re very hot right now, the murderous spy thing is a look that I truly appreciate.”

He hits her with one of their kitchen chairs, but she hits him with her battle staves and there’s a crunch that would be sickening had she actually cared what happened to Lance.

His shoulder is bleeding, when he manages to get on the other side of the room from her, somehow still standing and looking much worse off. His gun is still in his hand, but if Bobbi’s count is right he shouldn’t have any rounds yet and is bluffing his way through all of this.

“I still have the thing,” Lance says, “if that changes anything.

“What thing?”

“The stolen object that Hydra wants, I was supposed to make the drop today when Izzy- oh, yeah should I mention that she’s a merc too, most of my friend are and- oh blood hell Bobbi I liked those plates-“

“If you don’t want your head smashed in with them, you better get the point faster.”

“Right right, the point,” Lance scrambles, clearly searching his brain for whatever piece of information she had scared out of him with a very precisely aimed plate (if she’d wanted to hit him she easily could have), “the point is, I have the thing I was paid to stole, and I could give it back to your whole SHIELD group, in exchange for the whole _not dying_ thing.”

She stops, technically Coulson had said that she didn’t have to kill him, that was her call after all- and as much as he was a dick, she might not have entirely wanted to see him dead.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Atlanta,” he quickly answers.

“Atlanta?”

“Because that night in Atlanta, I didn’t know who you were, but I knew you looked like a goddess and I’ve been in love with you since that day- and Bob, Barbara- you know me, maybe not the whole job thing but, what are the two things I care about most in the world?”

“Buying milk-“

“Bobbi,” he gives a groan, but steps up into her space, “two things I care about most in the world, are you and my next paycheck- not necessarily in that order but,” he makes a face, “I’d prefer not to die today, or any time soon, and if SHIELD can guarantee that then the thingy is yours. I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

She’s not sure why she believes him, Atlanta is not a good enough of an answer, and she’s knows that, but she’s always had a bit of a soft spot for him, “I should call SHIELD, get somebody started on that amnesty paperwork for you-“

“Right, I need to call Izzy and get her to give me the location of the drop spot for you-“

“But first I was thinking that we could-“

“I’ve been thinking about it since you walked in guns blazing, so if you thought for a second I would refuse then really you don’t know me at all-“

“I’m starting to realize that-“

“Still, incredibly hot.”

She’s not sure whose weapon hit the floor first, or who moved together but one second they were staring each other down and the next she was pushing him down onto the ground with what remained of their little life together, pulling her shirt off over her head, and doing what they’ve both been wanting to do since this first began.

“You know, you’re not so bad yourself,” she says, as she pulls his pants down his hips, “the fighting thing was almost hot.”

“Oh, love, I’ll show you _almost._ ”

Hours later a SHIELD team arrives to clear everything up, stolen objects are returned, and disapproving looks are shot about the group as Coulson takes in a very wrecked house and two agents (or one SHIELD agent and one terribly charming mercenary) with more than slightly rumpled appearances.

But hey, she got the job done, and that’s what matters, right?

It’s as they’re getting patched up by some SHIELD team, that Lance blurts out, “I think we should get a divorce,” she can’t help herself from laughing in reply.

“Oh, you _think._ ”


End file.
